


Even With Blood On Your Lips, You're Still My Angel

by RPGCATZ



Category: Supernatural
Genre: "You still look pretty", And taller, Background Angst, Based off of a few aesthetic photos, Blood, Bruises, But angst if you squint, Castiel in Makeup, Dean gives Cas a makeover, Dean is a Sweetheart, Dean is older than Cas, Fluff, Home-Schooled Dean Winchester, I wanted to make this longer but im tired and i have school, Implied/Referenced Bullying, Implied/Referenced Child Abuse, Like, Lipstick & Lip Gloss, M/M, Makeup, Pastel Dean, Pastel Punk Castiel, Scars, pastel
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-05-19
Updated: 2017-05-19
Packaged: 2018-10-20 16:47:59
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,102
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10666755
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/RPGCATZ/pseuds/RPGCATZ
Summary: No words really,Just needed some fluff I guessAs always,Comments and Kudos are much appreciated loves!~





	Even With Blood On Your Lips, You're Still My Angel

Castiel had dealt with blood before. He had seen it so many times growing up, and so many more times after Dean's mother had died. So to Cas, the bloody nose and the cuts along his face and body were nothing new. Nothing scary. 

He looked down at the white, fluffy shirt he had borrowed from Dean. It was almost drenched in blood. 

He felt nauseous. 

Maybe it was blood loss, maybe not. Cas couldn't tell the difference at that moment. 

He was sure he had been given some kind of concussion from the other children. His head was rattling, every breath causing a nerve to jolt with pain. But he honestly couldn't tell.   
He stood from the kneeling position he had found himself in and simply stared at his bloody hands for a moment. 

He honestly didn't care if he was suspended from school for fighting back. Or for breaking the kid's hand when the child pulled too hard on the back of his shirt. Cas felt no remorse or emotion towards the children he had beaten to a pulp. Felt no feelings for the fact that the children would need therapy or some stupid thing to help them forget what he had done to them. 

He felt nothing for them. 

But his heart felt pained when he knew Dean would surely be mad at him for possibly going too far with fighting back. 

Still, Cas wanted to see Dean. Wanted to see his candy green eyes focused so precisely on his wounds. Wanted to see the way his freckles darkened when he blushed. Wanted to see the practically completely white room surrounding the boy. He wanted  to be with the boy. He wanted to make sure Dean's bruises were okay. He wanted to see Dean.

So Cas found himself stumbling out onto the sidewalk that was not too far from the schoolyard where the fight had taken place. Found himself often looking up at the pastel blue sky, wishing he could just teleport to Dean.

Found himself wishing Dean's bastard of a father hadn't bought a house so far from the school. 

He was angered by the thought of Dean's father, John. 

The man was a complete asshole to any and everyone, even before his wife Mary's death. Before the fire had consumed the old house. Before Dean started to have panic attacks. Before everything. Before Cas even knew the man's name, he knew the man was an asshole.  
But he wasn't as much of a problem for Dean and himself in the daylight anymore. He wasn't even that much of a problem in the night either, as Cas had noticed. The man seemed to drink himself past such a great length that he would sleep for days at a time. So he was only a problem for them on certain bad days. 

Cas hasn't received a Code-Black&Blue from Dean in a long time. A whole week had passed since the last one at best. Of course, Cas still hoped that Dean was okay and that there were no secret Code-Black&Blues that Dean had kept quiet about. 

Cas looked back down at the blood drenched sweater on his body. It was soft before the fight, before it was covered in blood, before Cas ruined it. But it was only soft because Dean has washed it.He had to, he had to wash out the blood drops and dried mud on the sleeves and chest area of the shirt. But now the whole thing was covered in blood. The small wisps of fur on the sweater were like small mountains of blood from Castiel's point of view. It was...almost beautiful.

Almost..

....

As Cas approached the Winchester household, he took a look around the familiar surroundings neighborhood. He didn't live here, not really, but sometimes he felt as if he knew this place better than his own house. Perhaps he did. He didn't know. But walking up to the house, he silently reminded himself to use the window. He never used the door. No one who knew what went on in that house went through the front door.  
Not since the bottle incident.  
Not since Dean had been forced out of his own house. Not since Dean and Cas had run for their lives and had hid in the park till three A.M just to make sure they were safe. Not since Cas has put his foot down for the first time and told Dean that he would not let the male go back to that hell hole. Not since Dean had said okay and taken Cas with him to Bobby's.  
No one went through the front door since then.

It was preferred that you were to climb through a window, or sneak through the back door. But sometimes it was smart not to come at all. So Cas walked to the side of the dark house that barely fit into the bright, pale theme of the neighborhood and looked for the vines.

Dean had suggested it. Dean had suggested it on one of his father's bad days. There were new bruises on his face. There were new cuts on his hands and wrists. So Cas looked for the vines that laced themselves onto the side of the dark house. When he found them, he took a quick tug at the vines to check how sturdy they were. 

He pulled himself up the vines, quickly reaching Dean's bedroom window and pushing the windowsill up. Quietly, so not to scare the freckled wonder in the dull white room. Cas' eyes looked over the room swiftly. Dean laid on the bed, wearing the old shirt he had stolen from Cas on their first night in Castiel's house. Cas had known, but he knew the pale brown shirt with darker brown sleeves made Dean feel closer to him. So he hadn't said anything, because to him, Dean's happiness was all that mattered. 

Cas knew Dean was tired. He hadn't slept very much since the last bad day his father had. So Cas didn't wake him at first. But as Cas stood in the white room, he noticed the dirt he had dragged into the room. He hated ruining Dean's things, he truly did. But he needed a change of clothes, and maybe some medical attention. His head was throbbing painfully in the place that one of his attackers had hit him. So he reached forward and gently shook Dean, of course not before wiping his hand on one of the areas on his pants that didn't have blood on it. He didn't want to ruin something else that Dean liked. 

When Dean awoke, he did so with fast movements and wide eyes, clearly fearing that the one waking him was his angered father. But as Dean looked around the room, his eyes landed on Cas and for a moment he was calm. Before he realized that Cas was covered in blood and cuts. 

"C-Cas? What happened to you?" 

Cas looked down, suddenly very aware of the blood on his face and on Dean's shirt. He explained what had happened. He explained how he was attacked and beaten up, but that he had fought back, and almost smacked himself as Dean gave him a sad look. 

Dean nodded and slid off his white bed, and padded across the white carpet and grabbed the first aid kit from behind the white bookshelf in the corner of his room. He set it down on the desk near the window, and walked to his dresser to get some clean clothes, a bowl, a cloth, some soap, and a pale blue bag that Cas had bought for him on his tenth birthday. Cas had no idea what was in the bag, but he almost hoped it was painkillers or something like them because his head was pounding at that point. 

Dean looked at Cas and met his pale blue eyes with his own candy green eyes and told him to strip. Cas felt himself blush under the caked up blood on his face. Dean turned to mess with the first aid kit and the blue bag on the table as Cas quickly stripped out of the bloody white sweater and the black, ripped up jeans. Dean paid no mind to the nudity as he turned back around and pushed a chair out for Cas at the desk. He told him to sit, and to hand him the bloody clothes. Cas sat on the cold leather stool and looked at the items on the desk.

As Dean returned to the desk, he quickly grabbed a bottle of water and poured it into the bowl. He dipped the rag into the bowl and pulled it out quietly. Turning to Cas, he sprayed some soap onto the rag and began to wash off the blood from Cas' face and chest. Small words of love and praise left Dean's lips when Cas would flinch at the sting of the soap in his wounds. Dean dipped the rag back into the water and cleared off the blood and soap from the cloth. When he took the cloth back to Cas' skin, he gently wiped off the soap on his face. 

Reaching for the dry cloth on the desk, Dean began to dry of Cas' wet skin, gently mummering words of appreciation into the raven haired boy's ears. When Dean pulled back the rag, he set it down onto the table and traded it for the first aid kit. Quickly pulling a bottle of medical alcohol, Dean said gently, "This might sting a bit..." Cas nodded quietly and gave permission to Dean to continue anyways. 

....

Dean had been right. The alcohol had burned him and made him tear up slightly. Dean had apologized continuously when he had noticed just how much pain Cas was in. Cas was embarrassed to get so emotional over a quick sting but Dean had told him how he had actually started bawling the first time he had used alcohol to disinfect his wounds. At that, Cas had laughed gently. Dean had pulled up another chair up to the desk not long after he had washed off the blood on Castiel, and had sat on it while he disinfected his wounds. But now, Dean was holding the pale blue makeup bag and simply staring at the raven haired boy.

"Cas?"

"Yes Dean?"

"Can I... Can I put this makeup on you?"

Cas stared at Dean for a moment, but he found no reason to say no, so he nodded. Dean's face lit up at Cas' response and quickly pulled some tube of lipgloss out of the bag. He had this stupid grin on his face and his eyes sparkled brightly as he leaned closer into Cas' personal space. Twisting the tube's cap quickly, the applier pops out of the tube and shines vibrantly in the light of Dean's white room. It fascinates Cas, much like Dean does, but not as much..

Nothing does...

Cas must have spaced out because when he comes to, Dean is snapping his fingers at him. 

"You okay Cas?"

"Yes..."

Dean gives him a look of disbelief. 

"Cas."

"Yes?"

"Even with blood on your lips, you're still my angel."

The boy gives the other time to let his words sink in and slowly leans closer.Dean plants a kiss on Cas' lips. It's something they don't get to do very often in a world like this.. Cas leans into the kiss so easily, so ready for Dean to take control. But Dean pulls back and Cas lets out a whimper into the once occupied space in front of his lips.

"Why did you stop?"

Dean rubs his thumb against Cas' cheek, and places a smaller kiss on the bandaid on Cas' forehead. He pulls back and smiles at his lover. 

"Because you need to rest."

Cas wants to pout but he can't deny that he's tired, he can't deny that he wants to lay beside Dean and just sleep. So he gets up from the pale stool at the white desk in his lover's room and in his lover's clothes and lays with the boy. Lays with the boy he has fallen for. Lays with the boy who's the son of a drunken bastard. Lays in his clothes, in his white bed with smeared, blood red lip gloss on his lips and his lover next to him behind a locked door in a white room. And to Cas' surprise,

He truly, _truly_ feels like an angel with blood stained lips..

And he loves it...

**Author's Note:**

> No words really,  
> Just needed some fluff I guess
> 
> As always,  
> Comments and Kudos are much appreciated loves!~


End file.
